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Home , Nedoceratops, Torosaurus, Triceratops

Of Horns and Horner

TZVI POLLOCK

Imagine for just a moment, if you will, the vast open plains of . Not the barren, rocky valleys and geologic formations of today, but the broad expanses of primitive grasses and shrubs of the from sixty-seven million ago. In this lost world, the plains swarm with life. Dragonflies more than six inches long dart back and forth above what is now the Hell Creek rock formation, which, in this past era, still lies largely underwater and teems with fish that have bony plates in place of scales. What would draw your eye the most, though, are the behemoths that roam the plains, dominant and magnificent. A stout, massive quadruped about the size of an elephant waddles along, munching on still prevalent , its entire body covered in armor plates. A monster, twenty feet tall and weighing over seven tons, plods by, its six-inch teeth bared. Its attention is focused on the plains, which thun- der and shake under the weight of a whole herd, elephantine and numerous. They graze the plains, huge frills and horned shaking back and forth.

The imagined world of the lost .

Flash forward to the present. The of yesteryear have been extinct for longer than primates have existed. Yet the presence of these majestic crea- tures lives on in the dreams and imaginations of people the world over. From the BBC’s Walking with special to Park, dinosaurs perenial- ly fascinate and entertain. But recently, controversy over two of dinosaurs evoked a vitriolic and chaotic reaction from the dinosaur-loving community. The Hell Creek formation in Montana is currently one of the richest and most diverse beds of dinosaur in , yield- ing such notable original specimens as , rex, and , among dozens of other species. But recently some paleontologists have posited that two, or perhaps more, of those many species are, in fact, one (Scannella and Horner 1157). These animals are the mighty Ceratopsians, or “-faced” dinosaurs, known as Triceratops and . While their exis-

MERCER STREET - 73 tence has been central to dinosaur phylogeny, one of the two may be headed the way of Pluto, into the ether of the non-nomen. And, as with Pluto, the real conflict lies not in what scientists rule, but in how that ruling may endanger the public’s preconceptions. In the late 1880s, about a decade before the discovery of Tyrannosaurus rex, the world-renowned paleontologist and bone-hunter Othniel C. Marsh was sent the remains of a new dinosaur. Estimated to weigh more than seven tons, the creature possessed an enormous with a beaked jaw, a huge frill shaped from solid bone, and three horns on the face—a small one on the nose and two large ones over the eyes. In 1889, Marsh named the Triceratops, “three-horned face,” for its unusual facial accoutrement (173-75). Just two years later, another very similar dinosaur was excavated from the same site. It too possessed a large frill, though its frill was not made of solid bone, and three horns about the face. Marsh named it Torosaurus, “perforated lizard,” to recognize the large holes that distinguish its frill from the solid one of Triceratops (266). Marsh and other paleontologists found over a hundred other species of related Ceratopsian dinosaurs around the world, from the ominously named Diabloceratops to the -like, dog-sized . The rest, as they say, is history. We’ve learned about—and learned to love— Triceratops, Tyrannosaurus, and myriad other dinosaurs ever since. That is, until August 2010. The constant danger in the field of is to mistake one ancient life form for another. The study of prehistoric life, be it dinosaurs, fish, or even plants, relies on clarity of reference, a set of globally accepted classifications. We have endless varieties of life, large and small, whose extinc- tions date from ten thousand years ago to three billion years ago. A common reference system allows us to more accurately and broadly record what par- ticular animals did, where they lived, and to whom they were related. When Darwin solidified his theory of evolution, it was not the living animals of the Galapagos that sparked his hypotheses; it was the ancient remains of the Glyptodont of South America (Quammen). By drawing lines between ancient life forms, we are able to derive the evolutionary history of the organisms we study. It’s vital that we make these distinctions and track their changes so that we can project them forward, extrapolate, and understand the history of our own world. But the danger of misidentifying an organism is ever present. As difficult as it can be to distinguish one species from another in the modern era, doing so when the only remaining evidence is calcified bone can be near- ly impossible. So it stands to reason that, with some frequency, the classifica- tions that scientists have imposed turn out to be inaccurate.

74 - MERCER STREET Notable dinosaur paleontologists John “Jack” Horner and John Scannella had noticed some irregularities when looking at specimens of both Torosaurus and Triceratops. They had access to hundreds of different skulls, and yet none of the Torosaurus skulls were ever identified as belonging to juve- niles. The two animals were found at the same fossil sites with conspicuous frequency, and on Triceratops, Horner and Scannella found depressions in the frill, spaces of decreased thickness that could indicate a transitional stage on the way to full-on temporal fenestrae, or gaps in the frill (Scannella and Horner 1160). Given these factors, the two scientists conferred and crafted a hypothesis: Triceratops, despite its fame and popularity as one of the most rec- ognizable species of dinosaur, was not a true, mature dinosaur in its own right, but was instead a juvenile form of Torosaurus (Scannella and Horner 1158). This hypothesis, if endorsed by the scientific community, would elim- inate an age-old species from the evolutionary history of dinosaurs, reducing it to an unfortunate footnote in science textbooks. Horner, whose name is also known outside of paleontology circles, had garnered a reputation before releasing the now infamous “Toroceratops paper.” He was known for routinely striking dinosaur species from the nomenclature by claiming that one species was a juvenile specimen of another. Horner had already pushed for the dinosaur Nanotyrannus to be classified as a growth stage of Tyrannosaurus rex and for both Dracorex and Stygimoloch to be merged with (Horner and Goodwin 3). In their comparison of Torosaurus and Triceratops, Horner and Scannella compiled Horner’s previous findings, from Ceratopsian ontological data to metaplastic skull composi- tions. The paleontology community responded as groups of experts in a field tend to do when confronted with a controversial new theory: each took a side, some agreeing that the two dinosaurs seemed to be the same species, some accusing Horner of defaulting to the same tactic ad nauseum in a sensational- ist play designed to drum up spectacle, and therefore fame, in scientific cir- cles. Longrich and Field refuted Scannella and Horner’s claims and attempt- ed to re-separate the genii. Horner and Scannella collaborated yet again to declare a third species, , to be another growth stage of Triceratops (Scannella and Horner 2-5). The opposition poked holes in that theory as well (Farke 2). The conflict over Triceratops gives off almost contradictory airs of passive-aggression, with subtle slights against the original paper slipped into the rebuttals, yet hints of a curious camaraderie; Andrew Farke went so far as to discuss how to strengthen his paper with John Scannella at a confer- ence. In fact, while researchers disagreed about the issue, the matter never escalated to the level of controversy in the scientific community; it was those

MERCER STREET - 75 following the debate from outside who manufactured scandal. Scientists who accept Horner’s theories disagree with those who do not, yet all share the same goal—and it shows. The constant back and forth of their research, rely- ing as it does on communication and peer-review, makes the theories stronger and more precise—which is what all scientists want, in the end. But the same cannot be said about the reading public. When word got out about Horner and Scannella’s findings, internet followers created an uproar. The conventions of scientific nomenclature dictate that if two genii, previously thought to be distinct, are subsequently combined, the name retained is that of whichever creature was named first. Thus, Triceratops, which was established almost five years before Torosaurus, would retain the species name. But many of the online public were unaware of or ignored this convention, reacting instead to sensational—and inaccurate—headlines like “The Triceratops May Not Be A Real Dinosaur” (Suen), and “Triceratops Never Existed? Say it Ain’t So!” (Rosenthal). Even the suggestion that Triceratops might be stricken from the rolls of dinosaur was enough to set off a public outcry against the loss or reclassification of a species that, for many readers, was a beloved childhood icon. This outcry, known colloquially as “#TriceraFAIL” in honor of the trending topic on Twitter, exemplifies the motivations behind the public’s interest (Paul-Choudhury). Rather than examine the facts of the debate or consider the research, much of the viewing public blindly believed the sensationalist reports, speaking out against actual scientific evidence to support what they had been taught was the truth. The average reader wants things to stay the same, wants everything he or she thinks is true to remain true, wants everything that is impossible to remain impossible. The scientist, on the other hand, revels in change, in the shift from hypothesis to theory, from what we think to what we think we know. Much as the layperson assumes that Darwin’s discovery of natural selection focused on the finches of the Galapagos, as he or she was taught at school, so too does the average person assume that a Triceratops is a Triceratops, that it will always be a Triceratops, and that anything else is simply untrue. After all, it says so in the movies. The true conflict, then, lies between the public and the scientists. On the surface, the controversy might appear to be between those who accept Horner and Scannella’s hypothesis—the paleontologists who theorize that Triceratops, Torosaurus, and Nedoceratops were one and the same—and those who do not. In truth, however, it is between those who think the hypothesis valid and the evidence worth considering, and those who do not. Few, if any, scientists think it isn’t. Only the amateurs, the dinosaur fans rather than the

76 - MERCER STREET dinosaur researchers, refuse to accept the possibility that the hypothesis is valid. They resist changing a name in their personal canon, while the researchers can discard or change a name if doing so means increased accu- racy. The evidence behind Scannella and Horner’s reasoning is debatable, as the articles by Andrew Farke and Field and Longrich demonstrate. The methodology, however, is sound. The logic of ontogeny, an animal’s tenden- cy to alter its body plan as it ages, is readily applicable to the specimens of Nedoceratops, Triceratops, and Torosaurus being examined. Paleontologists, even those who disagree with the findings, agree that it’s not an impossible sce- nario, and they would never dismiss the research out of hand for matters of personal preference or obstinate attachment to established nomenclature. As Farke states about his research on Nedoceratops, “Science shouldn’t be about scoring rhetorical points, but working towards an accurate view of our world” (Farke 2). Before publishing, Farke brought his own findings to John Scannella to look over, evaluate, and critique; he wasn’t worried about who was correct or incorrect and had no real attachment to the name Nedoceratops. Meeting with Scannella helped him refine his ideas, strengthened his reason- ing, and most important, ensured as accurate an analysis, if not conclusion, as possible. This process of honing our understanding through argument and revi- sion is one of the fundamentals of scientific thinking—it is a means of recon- ciling what we think is true with the available evidence. But when what we accept as true becomes so entrenched in our thinking that it actually becomes a belief—as is the case with Triceratops to its many admirers—we tend to hold on to it even in the face of competing evidence. Triceratops has entered the public consciousness as more than just another step in the phylogenetic line- age of the Ceratopsian dinosaurs, and it has become too embedded as such for even convincing evidence to destabilize it. In the same process of magni- fication, Pluto has become much more significant than another rock floating in space; it has become one of nine planets, which have always been nine planets and always will be. When the “scientist with all [his] degrees and stuff,” with his frequent re-evaluations and re-applications of the scientific method, attempts to propagate a new version of what we’ve grown fond of as a fundamental truth, we often respond with dismay (Paul-Choudhury). This very dismay characterized the “#TriceraFAIL” movement itself. When Mike Brown, noted planetary astronomer, recounts his role in removing Pluto’s planet status in his book How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming, he notes the emotional reaction: “I would hear from many people who were sad about

MERCER STREET - 77 Pluto. And I understood. Pluto was part of their mental landscape, the one they had constructed to organize their thinking about the solar system and their own place within it. . . . Ripping Pluto out of that landscape caused what felt like an inconceivably empty hole” (Brown xii). Our concept of what is true and what is not drives our actions and emotions. Faced with the prospect of that concept being false, many of us become defensive. Unlike scientists, we fight back to regain control of our environment, gaining no pleasure from change. It destabilizes our perspective of the world, our clean and ordered ideas of what is and is not real. We sometimes react unfavorably, violently, to the idea of the unknown. It is not unreasonable, then, for those fans of dinosaurs who heard that their favorite ancient animal might have its name revoked to fight that change. And given that such a huge percentage of the population considers Triceratops to be a unique animal, or considers Pluto worthy of planet status, might the scientific community do more harm than good in prioritizing accu- racy over the reassuring truth of our childhood? This same nostalgia-born attachment leads some of us to object to the notion of feathered dinosaurs that move quickly and agilely, even though evidence of these facets of sauri- an life has been available since before many of today’s dinosaur lovers were born. Non-scientific “truth” is the status quo, while the job of the scientist is to spread what is indeed factually accurate, to propagate truth based on evi- dence. Scannella, Horner, Farke, Longrich, Field—these scientists and others like them come from varied backgrounds. And such diversity is common not just among paleontologists, but among most scientists, from naturalists to astrophysicists; their origins, methods, and motivations can be as diverse as the subjects they study. Unifying them, however, is the pursuit of common knowledge, data and facts that can be agreed upon, built upon, and used as the basis for greater and greater progress, greater and greater understanding of our world. The confrontation between these bastions of empiricism and the masses, occurring on the field of common knowledge, is an unfortunate one: we should embrace knowledge, come to revel in new discoveries and ideas as scientists do. When evidence falsifies what is factual to the majority of us, our sense of security becomes the primal sacrifice to scientific progress. It is a necessary sacrifice, though it hurts to lose the fixtures of our personal uni- verses. “That’s my childhood you’re messing with” (Paul-Choudhury). We’ll exclaim, “I refuse to believe it!” But we will have to. What is true is constant- ly in flux as we learn more. It is frightening and sad, yet also enlightening and hopeful, given the possibilities for what we’ll know, and how much we’ll grow,

78 - MERCER STREET as our communal grasp of how our universe works continues to expand. In one million years, everything we think we know, everything Farke or Horner is telling us now, may have been replaced time and again with more accurate versions, and much of our current mental landscape may be lost. But no mat- ter how our mental landscapes change, we will, I hope, always let dinosaurs wander across them.

WORKS CITED

Brown, Mike. How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming. New York: Random, 2012. Print. Farke, Andrew. “Anatomy and Taxonomic Status of the Chasmosaurine Ceratopsid Nedoceratops hatcheri from the Upper of , U.S.A.” PLoS ONE. 20 Jan. 2011. Web. 19 June 2012. Farke, Andrew. “Nedoceratops—Fun With Science.” Open Source Paleontologist. 26 Jan. 2011. Web. 23 Apr. 2012 Horner, John and Mark Goodwin. “Extreme Cranial Ontogeny in the Upper Cretaceous Dinosaur Pachycephalosaurus.” PLoS ONE. 27 Oct. 2009. Web. 19 June 2012. Longrich, Nicholas; Field, Daniel. “Torosaurus Is Not Triceratops: Ontogeny in Chasmosaurine Ceratopsids as a Case Study in Dinosaur Taxonomy.” PLoS ONE. 29 Feb. 2012. Web. 19 June 2012. Marsh, Othniel C. “Notice of Gigantic Horned Dinosauria from the Cretaceous.” American Journal of Science 3rd Series 38.224 (1889): 173- 76. Carnegie Mellon University Libraries. Web. 15 June 2012. —. “Notice of New Vertebrate Fossils.” American Journal of Science 3rd Series 42.249 (1891): 265-69. Carnegie Mellon University Libraries. Web. 15 June 2012. Paul-Choudhury, Sumit. “#TriceraFAIL: What’s in a Name?” New Scientist, 5 Aug. 2010. Web. 19 June 2012. Rosenthal, David. “Triceratops Never Existed? Say it Ain’t So!” The Baltimore Sun, 3 Aug. 2010. Web. 19 June 2012. Scannella, John, and John Horner. “‘Nedoceratops’: An Example of a Transitional Morphology.” PLoS ONE. 14 Dec. 2011. Web. 19 June 2012. Scannella, John, and John Horner. “Torosaurus Marsh, 1891, is Triceratops Marsh, 1889: Synonymy Through Ontogeny.” Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology 30 July 2010. 1157–68. Taylor and Francis Online. Web. 19 June 2012. Suen, Michael. “The Triceratops May Not Be A Real Dinosaur.” Geekosystem. 1 Aug. 2010. Web. 19 June 2012. Quammen, David. “Darwin’s First Clues.” National Geographic, Feb. 2009. National Geographic. Web. 25 Apr. 2012.

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